Consequences of Trust Issues
by ElyssaCousland
Summary: Alistair's POV of the healing scene from my story "There and Back Again". As requested by one of my readers! AU, AlistairxOC, Anders recruited to the Wardens during the Blight.


This is a companion piece to "There and Back Again"; it won't make much sense if you haven't read it, but in essence, Alistair showed a lack of trust and faith in Serra, and as a result she has pushed him away. He has realised the error of his ways and is trying to get her back. In the middle of this, Sierra is having girl problems, which Anders is trying to heal.

Alright, so a reader suggested that they wanted to see this scene from Alistair's point of view, instead of Sierra's, and it got my imagination going. Here's what was going through his head on the boat as Anders heals Sierra.

* * *

I stood against a wall, trying to avoid staring at the unconscious woman laying on the bed.

I'd carried her in here, after hearing her scream and finding her passed out, that man standing over her. That Wynne had also been there was beside the point; the bastard had hurt her. He'd called her 'templar', practically spewing venom, then turned around and flirted with her; the next thing I knew, he'd done something to her with his magic, and she had screamed. It pierced my heart. I'd do anything to protect her, and he had hurt her.

I wanted him dead.

I looked over at the man, the mage. He looked like a child wearing his father's clothes; he had my second best shirt on, which rankled. Just because I was the same height didn't give him the right to wear my clothes.

Didn't give him the right to take my place at her side.

I kept that thought to myself. It wasn't my place anymore, she'd made that clear. I'd been entirely unprepared for her anger, honestly; I knew I deserved it, but she'd never really shown that side of her temper before. I had tried to explain, but there was no excuse good enough for what I'd done. I thought back to that devastated expression the night I'd walked away from her…

I sighed. It was too late to take all that back. In one day, one moment, I'd ruined the best thing that had ever happened to me. And I had told her I would let her go, if she wanted me to. I meant it, too, I just… wasn't prepared for it to happen.

I put my hand in my pocket, feeling the strange machine hidden there. Her 'phone' was a heavy weight in my pocket; I'd chosen another song, before Leli had explained to me how I was hurting Sierra. I hadn't thought of it that way. And maybe I was stopping her from moving on, when she probably, really, should.

I had never been much for prayer; the Maker was all fine and dandy, but I sort of preferred he keep himself out of my business. But now, uncharacteristically, I prayed.

_Maker, if this is it, if she has chosen that…that…mage, if we are through for good… I swore I would accept it if someone made her happy, so please, Maker, let him be good to her. She deserves more._

I glanced at her again, a lance of pain shooting through me. She was so beautiful, and I…was just a bastard. Nobody. I had nothing to offer; perhaps pushing her away had been the best thing I could have done. For her, at least.

With a gasp, her eyes shot open. She tried to sit up; I twitched, but he got there first, holding her hand and supporting her back. I glared at him, wishing I could kill with my eyes.

Aedan was on the other side of her bed. He and the mage told her what had happened. She had to have known it was me who carried her; I was the only one of the three of us strong enough. And to be honest, it had been almost…nice. It was the first time I'd been close to her, touched her, since her Joining. She smelled just like I remembered: mint, from that stuff she used on her teeth, and lavender from her shampoo. I'd wanted to kiss her, to take away her pain, to make her see…but Aedan would have killed me, and I was quite certain the gesture wouldn't have been welcome anyway. So I treasured the warmth of her little body pressed against my chest, and kept my thoughts to myself.

She avoided looking at me, talking animatedly with both of them. She smiled at the mage, and I stiffened involuntarily.

And then he asked me to leave. Said he needed her alone. I recognised the look on his face; I'd seen that expression on Zevran, and on Isabela the pirate in Denerim. There was no way I was leaving her there with him if she could end up unconscious.

Of course, she trusted him. Of course she did. She told me I could go. I growled, and she relented, though she didn't look happy about it.

And then my day got worse. He leaned in and whispered something, and then the two were giggling together like they'd known each other for years. The mage stood up, splaying his fingers out in the air over her abdomen, and her eyes closed.

I expected an expression of pain, maybe a whine or cry.

And at first, it looked like she did, too. And then her expression changed. Her skin flushed, her breathing sped up, and she bit her lip, in that sexy way she unconsciously had when she was aroused. How many times had I kissed that lip away from her teeth, used my tongue and lips to soothe the irritated skin? The whimper that escaped her mouth after that was the furthest thing from an expression of pain, and I looked over at the healer, startled.

He looked smug. Smug. He was smirking. His fingers wiggled, and she gasped, and his smirk widened.

I was going to kill him.

I looked back to the woman on the bed to see something that no one but I had ever seen: she was writhing. Like when I was with her, when I pushed her to the limit and didn't push her over, like when she would beg me to make her come.

The memories – which I'd tried to suppress, mostly successfully until now – came rushing back. Sierra in my arms, twitching and panting. Sierra, skin flushed _all_ the way down, looking like a sex goddess, sweaty and debauched. Sierra, eyes black with desire, kneeling at my feet, teasing me, putting her mouth on me…

Sierra, tears escaping from the corners of her eyes, face screwed up in pain as I walked away.

I slid down the wall, burying my face in my hands. I couldn't watch. I didn't deserve to see her at all, never mind like this. Maybe I should have left her alone with her mage, maybe he could have kept going, given her what she needed.

I was so wrapped up in my own misery I didn't notice when it was done, when the mage left. I didn't catch on until she called my name softly, her tone pained.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know it would be quite like…that." She sounded sincere. She was apologising to me? After everything? "I'd have insisted you leave."

She always gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. She was giving it to that mage, I could tell. She had no idea…"And leave that bastard alone in here with you like that? No."

"Alistair," she began. I ached to hear my name from her lips again, had to bite my lip to stop from asking. She continued, "he was healing me. Fixing that embarrassing girl problem I'd rather not deal with." The embarrassing problem she was having because she stopped her medication, because… because it would prevent her from getting pregnant. There was no alternative explanation. "He wasn't doing anything wrong."

Yeah, right. Whoops, I said that out loud. Wait, she's talking again.

"…like to think, despite everything, that maybe you still trust me? Besides, frankly, the first healing hurt like hell. If this is the alternative, I'll take it. And better him than Wynne, because that would just be creepy."

She thinks I don't trust her? What in the Void? I stood up, and she flinched. She _flinched._ My heart dropped into my stomach. _She actually thinks I might hurt her_.

I had to explain, to make her see. I reached out, carefully, slowly, and touched her cheek. Maker, her skin was so soft…

"I trust you with my life. I let him heal you, didn't I? I wanted to punch him in the face," or worse, "but I didn't." The words were tumbling out now, and I couldn't stop the babbling_. Maker, please don't let me mention ending up somewhere without pants…_ "But I didn't promise not to hate every man who looks at you with lust on his face," which is every man, let's be honest, "and I can't promise I'll get better about that. That said…"

My heart was pounding as I reached into my pocket, picking up the little device that suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. With one hand still on her cheek, I leaned forward. I had to…I couldn't stop myself. I knew it was probably the last time I'd ever touch her, the last time I'd ever get near her, and I had to. I kissed her forehead. Her skin was like warm silk, and I wanted to do it again and again, but I etched the moment into my mind and leaned back.

"Leliana told me I should let you go. I have no intention of doing that. But she also said I'm hurting you, and that I will not do. So this is the last time I will bring it up. I picked one more song, but I'm done after that. I will keep it to myself, my love and my desire and my jealousy; I won't torment you with it anymore. But know this. I love you, and I always will. I don't expect your forgiveness. But if you ever need anything, I will be there."

I put the phone on her bed and walked away. I wanted to look back, but I didn't want her seeing the tears, couldn't stand seeing derision or hate in her eyes. I made it around a corner before collapsing against a wall again, finally letting the tears flow freely. I hadn't cried since I'd been sent to the Chantry as a child, but I couldn't stop. After a while I practically crawled to my cabin and collapsed onto the bed.

It was over. That was it. I'd had a chance, and I'd made a mess of it; I had lost.

When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed of darkspawn; the Archdemon was flying over, it came closer and closer, and I knew it was going to devour me.

And for once, I didn't mind.

* * *

As always, I don't own Dragon Age.

Many thanks to my fabulous beta, Melysande!


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